


I'm Not In Love

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, M/M, Prison, Prison Sex, Real Madrid CF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1922154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An experimental fill for the prompt at <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/"></a><b>footballkink2</b> , where an anon requested a Benzil fic and another anon added "I want the one where they meet in juvenile detention and Benz is Mesut's prison buddy and defends him from bullies OK that is what I want".</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not In Love

It’s not the first time Puyol's gang think it's funny to start the day with pushing Mesut around until they reach the canteen, and even after they set their trays on the table. He’s almost getting used to it. He’s almost starting to think that it’s just a regular part of the day, same as brushing his teeth or making his bed so that it doesn’t have a single wrinkle on it (as nobody wants to make Officer Vilanova angry, and there is nothing that could make Officer Vilanova more angry than a badly made up bed). After all, there are much worse things they could do to him. He sure heard about these things. That’s why he makes sure never to be alone with any of the other inmates when there’s no Officer in sight, and why going to the showers is a nightmare, and every evening when he’s finally in the relative safety of his cell, he prays and thanks Allah for letting him survive another day. 

Karim gets up from the table, despite Cris telling him not to mess with Puyol’s guys even more, fuck we don’t need it and let the loser alone. Karim mutters that the guy’s already had enough and they could find someone else already, and Sami laughs that Karim wants to have his bitch as well and Cris isn’t the only one with such privilege, or is it now a rule that only the wing leader can have his slut?                                                                   

Karim wants to punch Sami in the face, screw belonging to the same gang, but then he realizes that he’s maybe right. Why is he even doing it? Why does he even care? It’s not like he ever cared about others. Wasn’t he supposed to harden up here, instead of going sentimental, upright and all that shit?

But he tells the guys from the other wing to fuck off nevertheless, especially the stupid fucker Piqué who’s acting like he is the next Tony Montana only to scare Mesut, while everyone knows he’s here because he can’t even rob a gas station without getting caught.

Mesut is trying not to cling too much on Karim because that would make him look even more vulnerable, but it seems like Karim can see through him. His hand falls softly on Mesut’s lower back. It’s the first gentle gesture in months, and it sends some strange vibrations up his spine.

And Karim is there every time he needs him, using either his sharp tongue or even fists to make the bullies who need to boost their confidence fuck off, and there is always a comforting touch or a friendly wink, and “alright, kiddo?”.

It takes Mesut quite some time to find the courage to stop pretending that he doesn’t see what privilege he has, even though he knows it’s not something he can take for granted. He stays behind in the showers one evening and Karim stays as well, so probably he was right, there is a debt he has to pay. He looks around, making sure that it’s really just the two of them there now.

Karim wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to do that, but after all, nothing’s free in this place, and he has the right to want something back for his actions. He doesn’t understand his actions anymore, doesn’t understand his infatuation with this boy, but at the same time doesn’t mind the others’ remarks and mocking about it (not that they would dare to mock him too much).

It’s immediately clear to Karim that Mesut has little to no experience, but he lets him do things his way as giving him lessons would take way more time than they have, and it would also ruin the uniqueness of the moment. His head falls against the cold tiles. There is gratefulness and _respect_ in every motion. It’s far from all the dirty blowjobs in side alleys, it’s somewhere between teenage fumbling and something incredibly real.

“Thank you!” Mesut says then, his voice still a bit raspy. “For helping me.”

Karim only nods, because it’s the only thing he can do if he wants to keep his face, his position here. He can’t fall into it. The only thing he can do is to pretend that it’s just another favor-reward stuff, and hope that Mesut understands the little nuances that are meant to say that it’s not just that.  
  
No matter how much he hates it. 


End file.
